


The Other History of Frieda Reiss

by Idyllicdream



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU canon divergent, Comrades in Arms, Deception, F/M, Forgiveness, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Parent(s), Multi, Pre-Fall of Wall Maria, Recon Corps, Veterans, comradeship, scouting legion, survey corps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-01 00:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idyllicdream/pseuds/Idyllicdream
Summary: Frieda is Rodd Reiss’ illegitimate daughter, disowned in favour of her half-sister Historia. Tired of passing her days indifferently and afraid of dying a meaningless life, she joins the Survey Corps, just six months after Squad leader Erwin discovered Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. Together, they fight for freedom and hatch a plot to avenge her mother’s killers and take back Frieda’s birthright within the walls.





	1. Prologue: The birth of Freya Klein

“MOTHER!”

The shriek came from a young woman, as she saw her frail mother dragged from their home.

The older woman, who had pale hair and lines carved into her face around her eyes, was shoved down by strange men dressed as shadows. She and the screaming daughter looked almost nothing alike, if not for the latter’s desperate cries.

They were being extracted like mice from their burrows, and the wolves’ jaws were closing around them.

The men continued to yank and kick at them. The daughter saw her head bashed against the ground. Fear crushed her heart until she felt sick and breathing insufferable. She trembled at the thought of the concussion the blow had inflicted. But worse things were to come.

“What an unfortunate turn of events, Frieda. Your own father abandoned your mother for a blond whore and her child, even casting out his eldest daughter...”

There came the sweet voice of a killer. Kenny Ackerman. Frieda had met him on rare occasions before together with Rod Reiss. She knew of his shady background. And despite his lax posture his dark presence had always triggered fear in Frieda’s own mind.

Now, Frieda feared that his would be the last voice she would hear, and the last face she would see: this man had been a close friend to her uncle. The thought terrified her and grieved her to no end.

But instead of coming to her first, Kenny Ackerman turned to her father, whom she had momentarily forgotten was still there.

“So, Lord Reiss,” He inquired nonchalantly. “Do these two bear any relations to you? Is this woman not your former wife?”

Frieda turned a desperate eye towards her father, giving him one last pleading look. He could save them. She knew he could. One word from him, and they’d be free. One word, and this night’s events would disappear like a bad dream - never happened, never spoken of again.

_Father..._

Instead of looking at her mother, who sagged unconscious in Kenny Ackerman’s arms, Rod Reiss turned to his eldest daughter and caught her gaze. From his cold and jaded eyes, something stirred as he regarded Frieda. But what was it? Doubt? Sadness? Regret? The last of what could be remotely called fatherly feelings?

Whatever it was, for but a few seconds, it gave Frieda hope. Futile. Foolish. Naive hope. Hope that believed even now, as her arms were trussed behind her and a blade ready to slice her throat, she would be delivered.

The next words he spoke would be a hammer onto her fate.

Lord Reiss clicked his tongue, his face was hardened with resolution. “...It can’t be helped. They have no relationship with me.”

The cry was ripped out of Frieda’s lips - shrill, anguished, disbelieving - before a hand clamped down on her mouth like a guillotine.

In an instant her mother was forced down on her knees. Kenny Ackerman was behind her like a phantom, the sinister grin on his face and the glinting blade in his hand made him looked like a devil ripper.

“In that case...” He bent over her mother, left hand cradling her chin like an infant, and deftly placed the knife between her throat.

“You didn’t exist. You didn’t live inside this house. Nobody knows anything about you...”

Frieda lunged forward. Her sudden burst of strength had stunned her captor enough to wring herself free. She put a fist to the man’s jaw and twisted his knife into her hands. Clenching its hilt in her fist she made a mad dash towards Kenny with a furious and primal cry.

“AAAAAARRRRGGGHH!”

Then, she was grabbed from behind. This time two pairs of hands trapped her like a vice. Her hair was pulled upwards to expose her slender neck. Despite her twisting brutally, she couldn’t even move. For a second her body grew limp at the stabbing realisation that not only was she too weak to stop her mother’s execution, she was powerless to stop her own.

“You -” She hissed, eyes full of disbelief, sorrow and anger. “Stop it! Stop it! What did we ever do? MOTHER!”

Kenny the Ripper turned towards her. The death dealer’s eyes alone were enough to silence her, her screams clogged in her throats. Those eyes held nothing like pity, only perhaps a cross between boredom and impatience. Yet, they were colder and harsher than the blade he was holding to the flesh of her mother’s neck.

“Sorry kid. If you want to blame someone, blame your useless mother who can’t keep herself from falling out of favour.”

She gazed at her mother, at the lines on her face, at her thinning hair and hollowed eyes; and her bones turned cold, for Kenny had been right. It was age. Time had combed away all youth and beauty.

But is this her crime? Not being beautiful enough for the whims of men of power? For this, her husband would abandon her and their daughter? For this, blood had to be spilled, and bodies cut open and slaughtered like animals?

Her mother blinked hazily. Regaining consciousness a moment before her death, she looked for her daughter’s face. But Kenny ended her quickly. With a slash of the silver knife deep into flesh. Perhaps he did it out of mercy, killing her before she became fully conscious.

Her mother’s body fell to the ground, blackened with fresh blood. Her hands raked into the ground;a gurgling sound escaped from the split in her throat. Then all was still.

Frieda also slumped to the ground, the weight of reality too great for her knees. She could only stare, but she didn’t know where she was looking at. Frieda, alive, and felt it was her own throat that had been cut into so deeply. Her own soul which had been ripped away...

What did she do that morning? She remembered waking and combing her hair, greeting her mother with a smile and an innocent kiss, and heading to the library after breakfast. It was a bright and lovely day. Regardless of her will, her memories - the best of them - began their final march through her mind.

The Ripper had turned and looked at her, his ruby-tipped blade inching ever closer, closer. Frieda’s eyes followed its every movement, but - again - saw nothing. Slowly, she closed her eyes, not wanting to accept that the scene around her would be the last she sees in this world. A calm darkness enveloped her. It was more comforting than any that reality offered.

Death would be like this. It would be like falling asleep, she told herself. Down the curtain would would sweep over the painful act of living. How can it be possibly be any worse, any more painful than this infinite anguish that the world has inflicted on her? Words from an old story from a more peaceful time came to her. Pity not the dead, but the living. She thought she finally understood those words.

But... but the _injustice_ of it all, the damning cruelty of this world. It was the last spark in a dead flame. She couldn’t help but weep. For the world. For herself. For her mother. For her younger sister whom she would never see again.

_I’m sorry. Farewell._

.

.

“Wait.”

The single voice that could have saved her then. Her father’s. It rang out when the knife had only been a hand’s length away from Frieda’s throat. She opened her eyes as if something had commanded her to do it.

“Your name...” He met her with shadowed eyes. Hers was stained with grief, unclear and unfocused at first, but growing a startling sharpness. The eyes met his, and a flame was at once lit.

Same pair of eyes. One as icy as a lake in winter. The other seared like bright blue fire.

“... is Freya Klein.”

And with those words, Frieda - heir to the Reiss bloodline - was forever dead. And a new person was born from her ashes.


	2. To Shiganshina

_Year 844, four years after the incident..._

The air that hang over the Survey Corps as they returned was thick and heavy, like an unspoken veil of death that you could almost grasp with your hands.

Not like they had been a cheery bunch anyway. Any new recruit foolish enough to carry even a spark, a speck of optimism had it beaten out of them by vicious displays of death that grace them beyond the walls. It goes without saying that every Survey Corps soldier is a veteran from the second outing.

Today though, the murmur of death was louder. Its cold whisper had silenced most of the soldiers. The air itself had become like lead above them.

Erwin sighed as his eyes swept over his surviving soldiers, his brave, valiant but wounded and grave men. Their numbers had again dwindled. But today was, in his mind, to be remembered with triumph. For the Survey Corps had gained an invaluable asset.

He was, of course, talking about Levi Ackerman.

Barely his first expedition beyond Wall Maria, Levi had made enough solo kills that a handful of veteran soldiers could boast about in their entire career. When the young man entered the Survey Corps, he and his follo- _friends_ were scorned by its members for their brazen attitude and unceremonious admission. But Erwin, of course, saw differently.

However, things had changed in a matter of hours after the expedition began on the second day. The Survey Corps now regarded Levi with fear, silent admiration and, for some, he’d daresay even hope. But as they mourned their fallen comrades that evening no one spoke of it. No one spoke of anything.

The click of military boots sharp against the stone floor of the old abandoned fortress where they’d camped for the night reached Erwin’s ears. Within seconds, Commander Keith Shadis of the Survey Corps was by Erwin’s side, surveying the soldiers.

“What’s the count?” The Commander asked Erwin after he’d saluted him.

“Eighteen, Commander.” Erwin replied. It was an unspoken understanding as he said the number of the dead.

The Commander nodded. Again, there was an unspoken agreement between them.

“We need new recruits.” Stated Erwin quite factually.

Shadis almost laughed. “So? Tell me something I didn’t know.”

Erwin continued. “The 98th Trainee squad should be graduating by the time we returned from this expedition. There are reports of some exceptional talent this year.” Said the young squad leader.

“Hmph, always on the look-out, aren’t you Erwin?” His commanding officer chuckled. When Erwin raised a brow questioningly, Shadis elaborated on his thoughts. “Your new rookie from the underground inspires the men more and more everyday. Some are going so far as to call him _‘Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.’_ What a joke,” Sadis said with a dark gleam in his eyes.

“Though hardly far-fetched.” Replied Erwin evenly.

“Well, it doesn’t matter if that rookie is worth 100 men.” Shadis continued, snorting. “I’m leaving the recruits to you, Erwin. Since you like to be involved in these non-sensical things.”

“Yes, sir.” One can’t tell if Erwin was happy from his tone, but the corner of his mouth curled into an almost imperceptible smile as Commander Shadis walked away.

“One more thing, Erwin. I’d like to have a pep talk with your newest asset. Where can I find him?”

“I’ve no idea, sir.”

Shadis turned his eyes sceptically towards Erwin. The man was one of the few people whom Shaids couldn’t tell when he was lying.

“What do you mean? He’s been re-assigned to your division, hasn’t he?” Commented Shadis, turning a steel-like, scrutinizing eye towards Erwin, who seemed as unfazed as ever.

“Even if I were his commanding officer, I don’t control him, Commander.” Erwin lightly explained, before the Commander could reprimand him for not keeping track of his subordinates. “He’s the very embodiment of the Wings of Freedom that we stand for.”

“That’s supposed to mean he’s undisciplined? How disappointing, Erwin.” Said Shadis sourly. He was about to add the fact that Erwin should at least _try_ to reign in his latest subordinate, lest the brat cause damage to Erwin’s reputation as Squad Leader, but Erwin cut him off with lighter words.

“It’s all for the best. I wouldn’t recommend speaking to him at the moment. He’s lost two of his friends today. He’ll lash out, even on you, Commander.” He looked at Keith pointedly, as if he fully expected everything he said to play out.

“You think I’m afraid of one brat from the underground, Erwin? You’re getting more disrespectful by the day.” The man scoffed, the shadows under his eyes growing.

Erwin smiled, detecting a subtle hint of amusement from the Corps Commander. “I’d like to think of myself as a sensible man.” He said in a humble voice.

“Keep flattering yourself.” Shadis sneered. He lengthened his strides until he was walking ahead, though not before his voice carried back to Erwin. “Don’t forget. New recruits.”

.

.

“Levi.”

Erwin approached the stoic figure in the hall under the dim and flickering torchlight. Shadows seem to cling to this person, who seemed as though he could slip out of sight just as effortlessly.

His name echoed the solitary hall, but he didn’t make the slightest indication that he’d heard, appearing to be casually leaning against the wall. Although the Ackerman made no move, it seemed he briefly considered just ignoring his squad leader and striding down the hall.

A small smile lurked on Erwin’s lip as if he’d guessed the other’s intention, and he fearlessly walked towards the man.

“How are you feeling?”

Something in Levi twitched at the sound of Erwin’s voice. His eyes narrowed to a glare, the warning and irritation in them clear. “Spit it out, Erwin. What do you want?”

Erwin seemed content to get straight to the point. “Tomorrow I’m visiting the Trainee Corps’ Southern Division to meet some potential recruits. I’d like you to come with me.” He amiably explained. “Due to the unusual circumstances of your admission to the Survey Corps, it would be good for you to get acquainted to the procedures.”

There was a pause, in which Levi regarded the man before him with an incredulous eye.

“No.”

He stepped away from his leaning place against the wall, prompted by an unknown destination. He would gladly drop Erwin in his own conversation, if all the man had was a useless offer. He wasn’t in the mood to talk, not to anyone. And especially not to Erwin.

“Levi!” Erwin’s voice boomed. It contained no anger, but the sheer commanding _weight_ of it made the corridor suddenly feel smaller.

With the deepest reluctance, Levi stopped in his tracks. Resentfully, he inclined his head slightly to meet the taller man’s piercing blue stare.

Erwin continued in a steady voice, relaying information on the latest trainee batch, as if the show of insubordination hadn’t happened. Levi listened suspiciously, wondering if Erwin really intended to let him off, or was the punishment simply delayed until he finished speaking.

“So what?” He finally ask, bored and increasingly annoyed. Come punishment, there was nothing Erwin can do to- The man had to come up with better strategic shit if he wanted Levi to do his bidding.

“No. I was asking you as a friend.” Erwin Smith remarked.

In an instant his disgruntled mood had flared into something more sinister. Levi turned to fully face the man, his eyes containing every bit of venom he felt.

“I’ll make this clear, Erwin. I am not your friend,” He said furiously, “I may have had second-thoughts about killing you, but that does not mean we’re suddenly _allies_.”

Erwin was undeterred by the intensity of Levi’s scowl, and the menace in his voice. In fact, a feeling that he was being read by that stern gaze suddenly surfaced. Despite his resentment, distinct discomfort arose in Levi’s mind.

“You’re right.” Erwin said at last. “You may not be my friend, but at the moment you are subordinate. Allow me to rephrase it. It’s an _order_.”

“Tch.” Levi pulled back, clicking his tongue.

Satisfied that he’d cajoled Levi into doing something the latter didn’t want, a lightest smirk tugged at Erwin’s mouth as he strode idly away from his subordinate. “I expect you to report in at 6:40 tomorrow after inspection. You’re dismissed.”

Left alone at last in the flickering torchlight, Levi scowled at the walls, coming to the vivid conclusion that He. Hated. Erwin. The past be damned. Levi might’ve decided not to blame him for Farlan and Isabel’s death, but he’d do anything to be kept from that man’s presence right now.

Levi was alone (or under that sweet illusion) for about six seconds before a noisy Hanji Zoe burst into the corridor like a hungry titan.

“Levi, I heard you’re going with Erwin to Shiganshina District tomorrow.” She squealed, a wide toothy smile plastered on her face. “What a coincidence, I’m coming too!”

Levi’s mind changed instantly. He almost wished that Erwin didn’t walk away so quickly. At least his company would could be used to divide Hanji’s attention.

“We’ll have so much fun! Say, you wanna hear my trainee days stories? One time, I caused this giant explosion that nearly blew up the food storage. You should’ve seen the instructor’s face at the time. It was **_hilarious_**! This other time they cut the ropes during 3DMG training...”

Levi simply stalked off in the direction of his own quarters. He was no in the mood for Hanji’s stupid stories or her obsession with that bastard Commander Shadis.


	3. Entry 2: The Orientation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frieda is first introduced to the members of the SC at a pitch, and experiences doubt as she encounters a ghost from the past in meeting Levi

“Where _were_ you Levi?”

Hange seemed to possess an extra sense that allowed her to detect Levi’s presence within a 10-meter radius, for there was no way somebody could pounce on him so fast as soon as he showed up.

“Hurry up. No time for excuses. Your pitch is about to begin.” He was being dragged inside a tent by his comrades, which proudly bore their crest, and forced to sit down behind a desk with a row of Survey Corps merchandise, from napkins to cups to pens each adorned with tiny Wings of Freedom. Nanaba, Gelgar and Mike each had under their arm a bundle of leaflets, no doubt ready to hand them out to a unsuspecting cadet as soon as they stumble upon their pitch.

“Make sure to give them the best impression of the Survey Corps,” Hange said, with all her usual amount of solemness and cheer. “We’re counting on you.”

This was not how Levi imagined things would be when he’d joined the Scouting Legion, or what he had ever envisioned he’d have to do in order to fight for humanity. Publicity was Erwin’s department, not his. Levi could be counted to execute impossible physical manoeuvres on the battlefield to cut down the Titans, but he could not be counted on not to sit rigidly in a darkened tent, waiting for the first batch of eager-faced, snot-nosed brats to enter and regard him like some sort of freak show.

“Remember, the point is to impress them, not scare them away.” Hange’s useless reminder echoed through the tent after her back had disappeared through the flap.

He sat uncomfortably for a moment, listening for approaching footsteps outside. The tent was a standard in the military, and was made up of thick woven fabric that made it difficult to discern any sound from the outside. But he could still hear Hange discussing things animatedly with Mike and the others, and thus waited expectantly for something to happen.

Nothing did.

His brows creased into an increasingly impatient scowl. The first trainee should’ve entered by now. He’d rehearsed his ‘pitch’ with Hange for over a week now, and he can’t let all that torture be for nothing. With his sharpened senses, he strained to hear non-existent footsteps.

A short while later a mop of brown hair (filthy) and glinting goggles poked through the flap, eyes looking apologetic into Levi’s angry ones. He’ll just have to wait a _bit_ longer, she said, Mike and Nanaba are doing everything they could in order to catch the attention of potential recruits.

“We’ve never exactly been popular,” she said sheepishly. “But we have Humanity’s Strongest Soldier with us! That should count for something, right?” She gave Levi a loud slap in the back, which earned her glare, but nothing more.

After an even longer while, during which Levi felt like ants were crawling through his skin and thinking he’d rather be taking care of his manoeuvre gear, the first trainee’s head poked through, looking highly uncomfortable, like they had been looking for the bathroom and had somehow fallen into a thug’s den.

_Finally!_

“Um, I’m here for the pitch.” The recruit said in a growingly alarmed voice after introducing himself.

The male recruit was tall and lanky, and covered in cold sweat, probably terrified by the sinister smirk on Levi’s face. “Looks like you’re a frail one. Sit down. We’ll talk.”

“EEEP!”

.

.

“...You’re-”

“Eh? Levi, you guys know each other?” Hange said, glancing at her companion. (At some point, somebody had realised it was probably a wise idea to chaperone Levi during his pitch, and to intervene when necessary) Even a weird four-eyes like her could see how tense the atmosphere had suddenly gotten.

The cadet was staring at Levi, no longer wearing that shocked expression, but now held a more calculating one. Levi honestly didn’t know which of the looks he disliked more.

“No,” she retracted. “Sorry, for a moment I mistook him for someone else...” Frieda said, making herself look as guilty as possible.

Levi narrowed his eyes suspiciously - _something’s not right_ \- while Hange burst into laughter.

“Ha ha, really? How can you possibly confuse Levi? How many people are there with can match your short-tempered look and brooding attitude?”

Levi grit his teeth. “Shut up, four-eyes.”

“Anyone would be thrilled in their first encounter Humanity’s Strongest Soldier,” she said with a placating smile.

 _Liar._ His instincts were telling him. _Liar_.

Levi may not be book-smart, may never lead scientific investigations like Hange or come up with deadly strategies like Erwin, but he was certainly street smart. And his years in that dark hole called the underground had taught him to read a man by his face, not his words. And to know when he is lying.

And she was lying.

She had looked like she had seen a living ghost. For a moment her eyes darkened with resentment, fury and disgust, like she had seen the devil appear in front of Levi. There was no way he could mistake that look. He had grown up looking at it.

But long before he could ask her any questions, the cadet composed herself and sat down. Her face showed no trace of that earlier hatred, and now contained palpable curiosity as she asked question after question. Hange, encouraged by this rare enthusiasm, indulged her to the fullest. They talked like they had just discovered they were lost sisters. Realising it was no longer the time nor the place to bring it up, Levi leaned back, and sat quietly listening, albeit disgruntled, to one of Hange’s incessant chants.

.

.

* * *

Catching sight of Nanaba, Gelgar and Hange, Erwin quickly approached them. His old friend Nile, curious, followed him along. “How’s everything?” He asked after they gave each other proper salutes. His subordinates broke into wails.

“Squad Leader Erwin,” Nanaba sighed. “it’s been a flop, as always. Most recruit go for the MP’s pitch, despite only the top ten being able to sign up. The Garrison, as usual, holds a lot of interest as well.”

Erwin calmly waited for her to finish. “Nothing out of the usual. Did you do as I ask?”

“We did. More cadets have shown interest compared to the last year, thanks to the monicker of Humanity’s Strongest. But Levi’s attitude scares them away!”

“Right, as I was saying, it was no better with Mike, since he freaked about all the female cadets by sniffing them!”

“I see,” Erwin said calmly. “We must adapt our strategy then. During the next rotation, I’d like you, Lewin and Cohen take the pitch. You have a stable personality and the other two have a talent for lightening the atmosphere. Put them next to Levi as well.”

None of them looked the slightest bit surprised to see Erwin come up with a plan on the spot, one that possibly overrode their commander’s in terms of efficiency.

Nanaba looked up at Erwin and contemplated her next words carefully. “Are you sure this is a good idea, bringing him to a reception after this? Can we really get him to attract sponsors?”

“It will be different with the sponsors, as long as he does as I say.” Erwin waved off their concerns.

Still unconvinced, but slightly more reassured, Nanaba tapped her chin and continued. “Well, there was this talented female cadet who seems totally interested in us. So I suppose he couldn’t have done too bad.” She frowned.

“That’s her over there, Squad leader.” Gelgar quickly pointed.

They all cast an eye out into the training field, where a shadow was practicing industriously with their 3DMG. Most recruit would stop by the pitches briefly and run off to spend the rest of the free afternoon for themselves.

“Whoo, she’s still training even at this hour. What a trooper!” Hange cried in delight; it seemed _she_ was particularly impressed by the cadet, had almost felt an instant kinship, judging by how she’d launch off into a string of chatter.

Black hair flying through the air and caught in a tight braid, the cadet was practicing with her 3DMG. She performed with a grace that bellied both her skill and her determination. Erwin had no doubt she would make a fine addition to the Corps.

Struck by the familiar scene, his mind travelled back to an evening, nearly three years ago. He was standing at this exact spot in the training fields, watching the same cadet attempting perform 3D manoeuvres in the air with frustration, and none of the ease and efficiency right now, before collapsing at last.

.

.

Year 841

_The girl seemed startled. He could see her visibly trying to pull her thoughts together. “Good evening, sir.”_

_Her eyes were begging him to leave. No doubt hoping he’d leave after she gave him the correct salute._

_“Would you mind if I sit?” He asked calmly, yet the girl seemed bewildered. He’d already taken a seat before she gathered her wits. She sat back down, without saying a word or nodding her assent, looking out onto the training field with a haunted look in her eye. It was still there, that look of melancholic despair which seemed to resonate with something in the chamber of his heart, if only just enough to override his sense of work and make him pause in his steps, and decide it would be worthwhile to spend a few minutes in the open air._

_“Why would such a promising young cadet like you look so despondent?” From what he’s seen, she’s having trouble righting herself on the 3DMG gear. Her hair was matted with sweat, and the white of her soldier uniform colored brown from the dirt of the training ground. He could tell from just a glance how exhausted she was._

_His question seemed to be the last straw, the final chip that allowed water to burst through the flood gates. She let out a hollow laugh, which sounded more to Erwin like a choke than anything._

_“Squad Leader,” she began, after a moment’s hesitance. “I’ve been driving myself to the limit for so long, for the sake of my goals. It wasn’t easy. I gave up a normal life to become a soldier. I’ve sacrificed so much and put up with everything.” She took in a shaky breath.“But it won’t matter unless I master the manoeuvre gear. And I just can’t do it!”_

_She paused to bury her head in her hands._

_“Will my efforts be in vain in the end?” It was difficult to see in the dark, but Erwin was sure that gleam in her eyes was moonlight reflected off her tears, which she was fighting hard to keep in. “Is it really going to end like this, with me unable to change anything?” Another choke. “Am I destined to die without achieving something, regardless of how I live?”_

_Her voice was hoarse with despair. “If I’d known I’d waste a second chance like this, I would’ve... would’ve...”_

_She didn’t finish her thought, and looked around hopelessly. She clearly didn’t expect him to understand. The confession seemed to have taken a toll on her: she seemed humiliated, ashamed. Clenching her jaw and her fist, she probably sorely regretted telling him anything. How could she expect him to understand?_

_What she didn’t know was that Erwin was in a better position to understand than probably anyone. He understood completely: giving up a normal life, refusing to be at peace._

_After his father’s death - an event Erwin had chosen not to think about for a long time, choosing the life of a soldier had been inevitable for the guilty son. He was intent on proving his father’s theories, wholly focused on learning everything about the outside world. For that goal there was nothing Erwin wasn’t ready to give, no roads he dared not to take._

_Yet the thought of sacrificing much, and yet gaining nothing, plagued him, like it plagued the young cadet next to him. Hadn’t he dirtied his hand, thrown away his humanity countless times to ensure the future of the Corps? And though they don’t usually last long, there were moments of doubt, of weakness where he wondered whether he had thrown away it all for naught._ What am I even doing?

_“What’s your name?”_

_If she was ever surprised at his question, she was too downcast to express it. “...Fri-Freya Klein.”_

_“My name is Erwin Smith. Tell me, Cadet Klein,” he said. “do you have a dream?”_

_It took her a moment to reply in the same trembling, hollow tone as she did before. “I don’t know.”_

_Erwin watched her carefully, before putting his fingers together. “A dream_ can _be simple. It can be something you want more than anything.”_

_“... I want to see my sister.”_

_“How much are you willing to sacrifice to see your sister alive and well?”_

_“...Anything. She’s all I have left in this world.”_

Ah, Excellent.

_“I see.” He said levelly. “I have no comforting words for you, Freya Klein.” He told her bluntly. “Nor can I convince you will succeed. As humans, we carry on with our plans, with the hope that it will succeed, but even our best efforts don’t always reward us.”_

_He lifted his eyes to the sky, where the evening stars were like scattered diamonds on a black mirror against the vast expanse of midnight blue, and the clouds were thin wisps of silk wrapped around the full moon._ Magnificent _._

_“But the only real way you can know whether you will succeed, is to carry on, and move forward without letting doubt cloud your judgment. Or fear to hold you back. Perhaps it will all be in vain, in that case you must trust that you have inspired others to continue your work. That’s your legacy, which will remain long after you are gone.”_

_“You may not succeed now, but does that mean you’ll never improve? Instead of doubting yourself like this, perhaps you should be focused on training and getting stronger, don’t you think? You’re a soldier, aren’t you? You have to become strong to protect your sister.”_

_._

_._

“What does the Instructor say about her?” Erwin asked out of interest.

Nile frowned at his friend’s sudden attention. He had been silently observant of the cadet, and had not deigned to comment on it until now. “Who? Cadet Klein? She’s received training to become an army doctor. A well-rounded trainee. Highly competent in the use of 3DMG, and one of the best hand-to-hand fighters. Excels at theoretical application, and possesses a firm mentality and flexibility. Well-liked by comrades and instructors alike.” He said briskly. The MP must have been interested in her talent as well, Erwin concluded. “I think she’s bound for a spot in the top ten, if not top three.”

He paused there, his eyes sliding to Erwin meaningfully. “She reminds me of you actually.”

Erwin’s subordinates audibly groaned. “If so then we might as well forget her. She won’t be joining the Corps when she can pamper to those incompetent MPs,” said one of them in dismay, likely forgetting Nile’s presence.

“Oi, Gelgar! Watch your language!” admonished Hange.

“Ah! Apologies, squad leader Nile.” The soldier rushed to right himself, heat rushing to his cheek.

Accustomed to the popular opinion of the Military Police, especially from the dedicated Scouting Legion, Nile wasn’t too harsh on them. “You can be assured that if she’s anything like Erwin, nothing you say will sway her from her path.”

.

.

* * *

Frieda had managed to graduate the Trainee Corps placing second. She thought back to her former life in the Capital with a hint of glee: if only those snobby boys could see her now, they’d think twice about picking fights with her. Who would’ve thought a lady from nobility like her would one day be top of the class in the military?

“Which division are you joining, Freya?”

“Are you still serious about the Survey Corps?”

“With your grades you can make a good life if you join the Military Police, then spend the rest of your life in the Capital.”

Of course, the one her peers were talking to was Freya Klein, a girl who grew up in a farm in the east of Wall Sina. But Frieda had a different past. She’d lived in the Capital, and she’d seen enough of it.

The fact was there had always been but one option to Frieda. Graduating in the top 10 should earn her the right to serve as the hand of the King in the Military Police, but that would mean coming home. _Too close._ That could not be allowed. Frieda, no matter how quietly she’d lived in the past three years, would be eliminated just as quietly if she dared to return. Rod wanted no reminder of his old life, of his old sin. Home was the last place she was welcome.

And the Garrison wasn’t any better. The Reiss family had been heavily involved in the Wall cult, had been one of its wealthiest patrons. And clearly the Walls were of great interest to them. Considering the Garrison’s main duty is to man the Walls, she was sure they had already kept a close eye and a tight leash on the regiment’s operations. She knew because she had been part of the Cult before she abandoned all faith.

Why the Survey Corps?

Frieda Reiss was a kind girl, somebody who had a purpose and a goal. Beloved by everyone. And had a family. She would’ve fought for humanity, surely, with all her heart. Freya Klein had no friends, no allies in this world. No future to speak of, no desire to live. Except just to see her sister again. The last family member she had left whom she knew she loved. Towards whom she could bore no hatred, and owed every affection.

Her love for Historia was the only thing that tied her to Frieda Reiss. Freya Klein desired everything Frieda had, but could never regain. Why did she join the Survey Corps? It is the only place that would put her beyond the corrupting influence of her father, is what she tells herself in times of doubt. But could it be, that someone as hollow and as drifting as her, was dazzled by the conviction and the immovable purpose? Perhaps she wanted that light for herself. Perhaps she was tired of power plays and corruption. Perhaps for once all she wanted to pursue was a dream, one that is not marred by greed or selfishness, to fight for the future of humanity.

 _Or_ , said a different voice - the one that had whispered that she wasn’t anything so noble, _perhaps it was the fear._ Perhaps a part of her that’s deep and dark could not forget the ripper’s silver blade, and that red corpse bleeding out on the forest floor. All it took was a word from father to give you back your life, and with a word he could steal it back just as easily. Should Rod ever change his mind, decide that it was much too bothersome to keep her around, to waste precious resources watching over her, would she be able to escape the dogs he’d send on her trail?

_Nowhere to run. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide within these walls._

_But what about the outside?_

Some years later, when Frieda would reflect on her decisions during this period, she couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason that led her to join the Survey Corps. Her father? Her fear? Her lack of freedom? Her need for purpose?

Who knows. She only knew at the time, she had felt every fear, felt every urge to turn back with each statistic confirming her suspicion about the Survey Corps’ mortality rate. Every urge, save one. There was one thing she desired above all, and that was to see her sister again. Surely, there is no way for her to fulfil her dream, without setting herself on this path.


	4. Entry: Trainee Days

Probably nobody remembered, but when Frieda was fresh in the Cadet Corps, she had come down with a terrible case of the flu that forced her to lie in the infirmary while others took crucial first steps towards being a soldier. When Frieda received the green light to go back to class, everyone seemed to have gotten hang of the 3DMG while she - still slightly feverish - slaved through hours of make-up training just in order to catch up. Worse, everyone seemed to have already formed their own click, whether it was a circle of childhood friends or a group of cadets from the same hometown.  
Except her.  
Not that she was extremely bothered by it at first. Her more immediate concerns were one, how hungry she was all the time, and two, how tired she was after intense training, and three, how sore she was from head to toe. Then again, so was everyone else. So she couldn’t blame any of them for not noticing how many meals she was missing thanks to her late supplementary training. Except for her.  
It must have been another late afternoon. The outlines of the training facilities were draped in shadows and becoming hard to trace in the crepuscule light. Frieda dragged herself towards the Dining Hall by throwing one feet in front of the other, guided by her nose and instincts rather than any general sense of direction. Her spine was burning from carrying around standard 50-kilo military backpacks and her eyes felt droopy and she could somehow sense her body underneath two layers of sweat and grim.  
She made it just in time to see the kitchen staff lock the door behind them and secure the keys in their pockets.  
“AH! ARE YOU SERIOUS? AGAIN?!” she collapsed onto her hand. Something leaked into her eye and stung her - what was it? blood? sweat? tears?  
She was quite ready to curl up and pass out then and there, waiting for someone to kick her awake or drag her away when her only functional sense - her hearing - picked up some whispers.  
“Matthias, it’s that girl. The one who’s always late.” It was a small, genteel voice that definitely belonged to a girl.  
“She’s passed out. Should we call the instructor?” A louder one, more boyish.  
“She’s just hungry,” She could feel their footsteps nearing her cautiously, from the hum beneath her cheek. “Anosā, can you hear us? If you can, try to sit up. We have some food.”  
When Frieda opened her eyes, the face in front of her was small and cute. Her hair was was tied into a small ponytail behind her head, a few pale golden strands falling across her cheek. Her eyes... it was hard to tell the colour with only the torchlight to aid her, but Frieda could already guess they were blue.  
The girl looked so much like Historia.  
Frieda felt like crying.  
The girl must have seen her tears, but probably assumed it was from exhaustion rather than emotion. “We only have some bread, but you can have as much as you want.” Her smile was dimpled, unlike Historia’s. But this warmth, this pure sweetness was so like hers.  
Frieda probably should’ve said thank you, but she only sniffed as she ate her bread.

And thus Ida Kirschner became her first friend at the Trainee Corps. She was a serious and quiet girl, and did not mingle well with the cadets, but she was unmistakably kind, surprisingly vain and undeniably sweet. She came from a well-off family in the west of Wall Rose who lost much of their fortune recently and became unable to afford a governess. To ensure her future, Ida’s parents enrolled her in the Trainee Corps. Her childhood friend, Matthias - once the stable boy in Ida’s house and grandson of the Head Gardener- was also here. His crush on Ida was rather blatant.  
Gradually Frieda got to know all the other cadets of the 98th Trainee Squad, a few of whom she knew well. Hermann, Matthias’ older cousin, who he never got along with, was fast becoming the lead ladykiller. Unlike his plain cousin, he cut a fine, dashing figure with high cheek bones, blue eyes and black hair. His friendly attitude, and his more impressive physique also earned him many admirers among the female cadets.  
There was Oskar Fitzgerald, who was pressured into joining the military by his poor family, but couldn’t make into the Military Police. The only son in the family with 4 older sisters and 4 younger sisters (!) He used to dream of being a magician, and boasted of being quite good at it. But it caught some unwanted suspicion of the MP. Now he only does it around the campfire with his comrades.  
Another one was Erich Stern - a simple and straightforward guy. He liked calculations and building things with his hands. He lived with and took care of his grandparents who owned a carpenter shop. His parents worked in industrial area.  
Frieda had never hung out with so many peers her age before, and it overwhelmed her with excitement. Some of them had never known a day’s hardship prior to enlistment, and others had worked hard jobs nearly all their lives that they were able to face the harsh training regiment with a seasoned attitude. And they fascinated her with all their secret talents. Frieda wished she could offer something more useful. She’d grown up learning about the world through books in libraries, and what she could learn from observing the farmers on the Reiss estate. What’s the use of learning so much academics if I can’t cook like Matthias, or make a chair from pieces of wood like Erich, or know how to haggle like Ida?  
Her friends understood her well. They were kind and mostly tolerant towards her clumsiness, and a few even make great efforts to teach her some. But her training to become an army medic left her little to practice and as a result, she was a very ill practician of these crafts, and made progress slowly.  
.  
.  
Ida was a very slow eater. Due to her small frame, she had not needed to eat as much as the bulky ones like Oskar or Hermann in the first place. But she’d always liked to savour her meal because it’s important not to rush things and make yourself look comfortable.  
This was the reason she’d noticed Freya: they were always the last ones to leave the Dining Hall. Being routinely late was one thing, it was hard to ignore it when the person next to you was inhaling their meal while you were just trying to slow down and enjoy yours. And frankly, Ida wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if she discovered that the other girl ate by her nose.  
But Ida understood that the tall, pretty, dishevelled girl was hungry because of all that extra training she was receiving. Soon, she learned her name from the instructor.  
Freya was missing so many meals it had been pitiful. But Ida never once saw her complain. Even half-starved, she never gave up nor failed to give her best during performances. To Ida, who secretly resented her parents for sending her to this place, it was unbelievable. That determination, that fire which meant to burn down the world, was scary at times, but Ida could not help be utterly captivated. Freya was lively and contagious. And she talked about joining the Survey Corps. It was impossible to look away.  
.  
.  
Letters from concerned families have arrived for the young people undergoing a tough and dangerous training to become soldiers.  
Those days, as soon as Hermann announced the arrival of the letters, Frieda would find some excuse to disappear. It didn’t deter her in the slightest that Ida was worried, though she’d always let her go. Seeing her comrades receiving words of worry, inquiring after their health and their grades, words of tenderness and affection -being privileged enough to be on the receiving end of such love, such luxury, when she had none - only triggered an ugly, envious sort of feeling in her, which she had wanted to avoid showing at all costs. It was a feeling her old self would never have experienced, after all.  
But sometimes she would get curious, and asked Ida. “What does your mother usually say in letters?”  
Ida, noticing a slight longing in Frieda’s voice, replied very gently. “She’s glad that I’m doing well. She wants me to make a few friends, but I told her I already have you.”  
“Oh Ida!” Frieda threw her arms around the girl, squeezing tight. “She’s right. You’re a sweet girl, and so pretty. I don’t see why you shouldn’t make other friends who you can count on.”  
Ida’s eyes swerve away nervously. They were noticeably greener than Historia’s, just like her hair was considerably paler, but if anyone was ever acquainted to both of them, no one would deny Ida had the same charm as her little sister, that makes you want to care for and protect.  
“Mum says she really wants to meet you,” she said instead. “since you’re all I talk about in my letters.”  
A small wave of sadness rose in the young girl’s heart, and was quickly quelled. While she would be glad to meet a friend's mother, she wondered if the homey and slightly aristocratic setting of Ida's home would satisfy the lack of a motherly presence in her life or just remind her of it. She took Ida’s shoulder and leaned on it, a more peaceful smile drawn on her face.  
“Thank you.”  
.  
.  
Ida didn’t always understand her friend Freya, but from the first moment she’d thought that Frieda was lonely. No, it was like loneliness was a shroud around her that could not be lifted. That there was a hole inside her that she could not fill, which could not be filled no matter how much Freya laughed and joked and smiled at her. She never questioned Freya about it, because she didn’t want her friend to have anymore sorrow. If there was something in her past that is terrible to speak of, then please, she thought, let Freya forget it. Let it be forever buried. And she can live the rest of her days in peace.  
.  
.  
Frieda didn’t think she could ever love Ida the way she loved Historia. Ida, after all, was not just her friend, but also her comrade, her peer. No matter how much the younger girl relied on Frieda for guidance during social situations, she was much more serious, more mature than the Historia in her memory. Though perhaps she was just as naive.  
Although her bond with Historia had always been filled with warm, sisterly affection, hers with Ida was similar, but on much more equal ground. Ida, being a few years older, was much better at understanding and grasping at Frieda’s thoughts, in a way Historia’s childish innocence couldn’t. But for Ida, she thought, her days at the trainee corps would’ve been spent missing Historia terribly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this and chapter 5 is pretty much the calm period before the pace of the story picks up. While I prefer writing more action-based chapters as well, I find that these early chapters are indispensable to Frieda's later development. It's actually quite difficult to balance what had happened to her in the four years between her mother's death and the present after she joins the Survey Corps without having too many flashbacks. 
> 
> I'm really impatient to move the story forward, since the meat of it occurs after a certain future event in this timeline.
> 
> The entire story has actually been mostly laid out. Frieda's first expedition begins in chapter 7. Levi and the Survey Corps will reappear much earlier, in chapter 5.


End file.
